


Come Into Sight

by asocialfauxpas (fuzzytomato)



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-08-31 07:03:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8568838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzytomato/pseuds/asocialfauxpas
Summary: At seventeen, Lukas doesn't have a soulmark but he's not too bothered about it. Most teenagers don't. In fact, he'd rather not have one until after he gets through his senior year of high school and breaks into motorcross. But of course, things don't go according to plan--especially when the name that burns into his skin is a guy's.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have not posted a WIP in a long time. So please excuse me if I screw this up.
> 
> Rating and/or tags may change as the story progresses.
> 
> Just as in the show, Lukas is violently closeted and has intense internalized homophobia.

Lukas didn’t have a soulmark yet, and that was perfectly fine with him.

He didn’t need one, not at seventeen, not when he was trying to get through his senior year in high school, not when he was trying to get into motorcross. It would be a hindrance, another obligation.

Besides, most people in his class didn’t have them either. He didn’t. Rose didn’t. The only two who did were Tommy and Tracey. Tommy’s full name curled around the base of Tracey’s jaw in an elegant script and curled to finish behind her ear. Tommy had Tracey’s name in thick block letters on the back of his hand. Lukas had heard the story a thousand times. They had met as toddlers and within a few minutes, their soulmarks appeared.

But they were a rare case.

Most teenagers didn’t have them.

And Lukas didn’t see the point in waiting around for someone he didn’t know, and who might not even appear until he was older, and miss out on being a teenager.

So he casually dated Rose, even though he wasn’t that into her. They hadn’t had sex, only kissed a few times, but that had more to do with other things than any obligation to his soulmate. Other things being that Lukas wasn’t actually attracted to her.

Lukas didn’t like to think about it. He didn’t like to admit to himself that his gaze lingered on strong jaws, broad shoulders, and narrow hips. He didn’t want to think about kissing someone and feeling stubble rasp across his skin. He didn’t dwell on the fact he wanted to feel strong hands clutch him close, pull him in, that he wanted a long, lean body to press him against the wall. (Lukas may have clandestinely watched gay porn once, but he was so guilty afterward, his stomach hurt and he almost threw up.)

He only needed to get through high school and when his soulmate did show up, her name would blaze across his skin and he could leave the whole liking-boys thing behind. That was his plan.

“Isn’t it romantic?” Rose said on a sigh. She leaned next to Lukas at the wall of lockers as he switched out his books.

“Is what romantic?”

She nodded toward Tommy and Tracey walking down the hall together, hands clasped, fingers laced.

“Tommy and Tracey. They will always have each other. When they're older, they will remember each other as young and beautiful.”

Lukas huffed. “Yeah, sure.”

Rose smacked him in the arm. “You could act a little more enthusiastic.”

“I just don’t get it.” He shoved his books into his bag.

“Get what?”

“Why it would be so great to be bound to someone forever. To be stuck with the same person from the day you meet to the day you die. It sounds boring.” He pushed his blond hair out of his eyes then shouldered his backpack.

“I think it sounds amazing. To know that a piece of your soul exists outside of your own body. That it will live on if you die. And you’d have someone you could be intimate with and share all your secrets.”

Lukas barely refrained from rolling his eyes. He closed his locker. “I don’t have any secrets.”

 _Lie_.

“Ugh, you’re the antithesis of romantic.” Rose took his hand and laced their fingers. “You’re lucky you’re a good kisser.”

“Thanks,” Lukas muttered.

He allowed Rose to tug him toward their first class. She chattered along the way but Lukas didn’t respond much. He didn’t know what to say most of the time and being aloof seemed to work for his reputation.

As they passed the principal’s office, Lukas knocked shoulders with a guy exiting from the office into the hall.

“Sorry, man,” he said, looking over his shoulder, as Rose continued to pull him.

The kid, someone Lukas didn’t recognize which meant he had to be new, merely threw a low-key salute and walked the other way. 

Huh.

If Lukas noticed those things, he’d say the guy was cute. But he didn’t. And he didn’t have time to dwell before the bell rang. He and Rose barely made it in their seats, slightly panting, cheeks flushed. A few kids cast Rose and him knowing looks, and Lukas didn’t dispute the whispers about them making out and being late, even if they weren’t true.

Lukas shrugged it off and immersed himself in the class.

It was in second period that Lukas found out the kid’s name—Philip.

He had just moved to Tivoli. He was also a senior. And he was shy, if the duck of his head, and the soft blush to his cheeks were anything to go by. He bit his lip when he caught Lukas’s focused gaze, but turned away when he settled into his seat once the teacher was done making him introduce himself.

And yeah, this close to him, Lukas was right about his initial assessment. Philip was cute. He had big brown eyes and a full mouth and a nice body.

He glanced at Lukas again, caught his stare, and a small, slow smirk curled over his lips.

Oh.

Lukas jerked in his seat, accidentally kicking Rose in front of him. He muttered an apology when she spun around and glared, then went back to his notebook. He buried a hand in his wild hair, gripped his pen tightly, and tried to make sense of the teacher’s drone. He kept his gaze on the blurring lines of his notebook. He scribbled down some words, but his writing was shaky, his hands trembling.

His heart raced, and his palms went slick with sweat. He was jittery, like he had drunk too many Red Bulls.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He needed air.

The bell rang—the entire period had passed without Lukas noticing—and he jumped out of his seat and fled to the bathroom. Once inside, he went to the sink, and splashed cold water onto his face.

Why was he acting so weird? What was happening to him? It was just a glance.

He sucked in a breath and wiped his face on the sleeve of his flannel shirt. Okay. Okay. He was fine. It was lunch time and he would eat and he would feel back to normal. He had skipped breakfast that morning, running late, and he had needed gas for his bike. That was it. That had to be it.

Besides, he wouldn’t have to talk to the new kid during lunch or ever, for that matter. He was outside the popular kid social circle. It wouldn’t be a problem.

He took another slow even breath and then left the bathroom, turning down the hallway. He entered the cafeteria and stopped short.

Philip sat at their lunch table.

Fuck.

Lukas approached cautiously. He sat in his normal seat beside Rose and she halted her chat with Philip.

“Hey, babe, you okay? You look a little pale.”

Philip raised an eyebrow at the greeting. Lukas swallowed.

“Yeah,” he said, dropping his bag at his feet. “Yeah, I just don’t feel that great.”

Rose pouted in concern. She lifted her hands and felt his forehead. “You’re clammy and your cheeks are flushed too. Do you need to go home?”

Lukas shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Rose dropped her hands and pulled away. She gestured to Philip. “Lukas, this is Philip. Philip, this is my boyfriend, Lukas.”

“We’ve met,” Philip said, wryly, lips pulled into a small grin.

“Oh yeah,” Lukas said. His mouth was dry. “Sorry about that.”

Philip shrugged. He tugged the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hands then he stabbed a chicken nugget with his fork. He nodded toward Lukas.

“Not eating?”

“Not hungry,” Lukas said quickly. His stomach growled.

“Philip is from the city,” Rose said. She brimmed with excitement. “Maybe he could get us fake IDs.”

Lukas snorted. “For what? Fred at the liquor store has known us our whole lives. He isn’t going to let us in,”

Huffing a laugh, Philip shifted in his seat. “Seriously? Does everyone know everyone?”

“Small town,” Lukas said with a shrug.

“No kidding.” He picked up a green bean with his fork and studied it. “This place sucks.”

Lukas frowned. He didn’t know why Philip’s dismissal of his home stung him the way it did. But annoyance crawled over his skin, and anger boiled in his gut.

“Fuck you.”

Philip’s eyebrows shot up, and he pursed his lips, but he didn’t say anything.

Rose’s gaze flickered between them. “Well, it kind of does suck. But Lukas is trying to make it into motorcross. He’s really good.”

“Yeah?” Philip asked.

“Yeah. You like bikes?”

Philip shrugged. “Sure.”

“You should come watch sometime.” Lukas didn’t know why he offered. It felt like the right thing to do, even if Philip was a smug jerk from the city.

Lukas’s cheeks turned slightly pink with a blush and he ducked his head, kept his gaze on the table for a long moment. But he felt Philip’s eyes on him.

“Okay,” Philip said, after a long moment.

Butterflies erupted in Lukas's stomach. What the hell was wrong with him?

At least, Rose didn't pick up on his discomfort. She leaned across the table, and placed her chin in her hand. “So," she said, winking. "Do you have your soulmark yet?”

“Wow,” Philip said, blowing out a breath. Lukas shot a glance at him and watched Philip flounder for a moment, caught off guard. Philip fiddled with his sleeves and then with his fork. A furrow appeared between his eyebrows. “That’s kind of a personal question. It’s not something you ask in the city.” He scrunched his nose, then took a drink of water.

Lukas elbowed Rose in the side. “Rude much?”

“It’s just a question.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder and huffed. “I wanted to know if Philip had left a girl behind in the city. If there was a long distance romance.”

Philip laughed. “No,” he said, chuckling. “No girl in the city for me.”

“Aw, well, maybe you’ll find someone here.”

Philip smiled. He focused right on Lukas and their eyes met. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Their conversation was interrupted when a few of the other upperclassman joined the table, dropping their trays loudly. They shouldered in, a few of them clapping their hands on Lukas’s back.

“Who’s the newbie?” Dave, an asshole by trade, asked as he popped the top on his drink. It sprayed everywhere, but he turned it to make sure Philip caught pop droplets all over his jacket.

“This is Philip,” Rose said. She frowned at Dave.

Tommy leaned in. “Wait, you’re the kid that the Sheriff dropped off today.”

Philip bit his lip again, as he brushed off the soda with a napkin. He nodded, reluctantly. “Yeah.”

“Oh man,” Dave said. “I heard about you. You’re the foster kid. The one with the whore for a mom.”

Philip stiffened. The aloof confidence he brandished sloughed off him in an instant, and was replaced by something dark, and sad. Lukas’s heart dropped and his throat tightened.

“Don’t talk about my mom,” Philip said softly.

“Oh, poor momma’s boy. Junkie freak. Why are we letting this loser sit with us?”

The group laughed, loud and cruel. Even Rose snickered.

But Lukas didn’t. Not right then. He watched Philip gather his things and shove off from the table and walk away. Then Lukas joined in, stuttered, and fake, the world fuzzing out as he watched Philip dump his lunch in the trash, and stalk out.

Lukas should have stuck up for Philip. He should’ve told the others that it wasn’t cool to bring up his mother. Lukas had lost his mom when he was a kid and her absence still hurt. He should’ve said something.

But he didn’t. He had just met Philip. He didn’t need to risk his position in the group for a kid he didn’t know at all. He owed Philip nothing.

Lukas forced a smile when they started in on the booze they had drunk that weekend and the nonexistent sex they were having. He laughed in all the right places, but he couldn’t shake the guilt, or the anxiety that gnawed in the pit of his stomach.

-

In the last class of the day, Lukas did get sick.

He sat in his desk, writing down history notes, absolutely not staring at the empty seat that he was sure was supposed to be Philip’s, when the pain hit.

It seared up his arm, white hot flashes stinging his flesh, like pins and needles but a thousand times worse.

He gasped out, hunched forward, and planted his forehead on his desk.

“Lukas?” the teacher asked. “Are you okay?”

He heard Rose answer for him, something about him not feeling well since that morning, but the words drowned out as the pain struck him again. Something fiery and hot scribbled across his skin, sparked down his spine, and he was going to be sick.

He grabbed his things and rocketed out of his desk. He didn’t say anything, bile crawling up his throat, and his arm on fire, as he ran to the bathroom—the same bathroom from earlier in the day.

His knees weak, his stumbled into a stall, and collapsed on the toilet seat. He clutched his arm to his chest. Pain swept up and down his body, centered on his forearm, but rolling from his toes to his temples. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he panted, clenching his eyes shut and breathing through the discomfort.

It was like the first time he fell off his bike and broke his ankle. But unlike that incident, this pain was starting to ease—slowly and in pulsing waves, but at least it was diminishing.

After a few minutes of being hunched over with his eyes shut, Lukas uncurled and dropped his arm to his lap. He yanked up his sleeve.

The underside of his forearm was a deep red, as if he had burned it. And in a blood red script, etched into his skin, was Philip’s name.

-

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fucking shit.

Lukas stared down at his arm in disbelief and utter panic. The longer he sat, the deeper and clearer the mark became. The P in Philip grew more ornate, the other letters darkening into a deep red.

Oh fuck.

His soulmark was beautiful, but it was a boy’s name. A _boy’s_. And not just any boy, but the one his friends had made fun of a few hours ago.

Oh, God. What would his father say? What about Rose and his friends? What about his potential sponsors for motorcross?

Lukas lurched from his seat and stumbled to the sink. He turned on the tap and grabbed at the paper towel dispenser. He shoved his arm under the water and frantically tried to scrub the mark off.

“Please,” he said, on the verge of tears. “Please, come off. _Please_.”

All Lukas succeeded in doing was creating a puddle on the floor and scratching his already tender skin raw.

“No. No. I’m not…” He swallowed down the word ‘gay’ lest someone hear. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t be that guy. No one wanted him to be that guy.

He slumped against the wall and rubbed his other sleeve over his eyes.

No one could know. He’d have to hide it. He could wear flannels and hoodies. That wouldn’t be a problem.

Except…

Except…

Philip would have a mark too.

Oh no.

Lukas swallowed hard. He’d have to talk with Philip. He’d have to get him to hide his as well. If he could. What if he wouldn’t? What if he wanted to actually be in a relationship? What if he wanted to explore their bond?

Lukas laughed, bitter and hollow. His head fell back to the wall, and he held his arm close to his middle. 

Meeting his soulmate was supposed to be a happy moment, a celebration, the pinnacle of _romance_. It was supposed to be _the_ moment of his life—a story he’d tell his grandchildren. It was supposed to be his happily ever after.

Of course, his would be fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lukas is still trying to figure all this soulmark shit out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for all the nice comments and kudos on the first chapter. And for waiting patiently for this update. I hope you enjoy!

Lukas didn’t sleep.

He tried. He closed his eyes and drifted on the edge of dreams, wanted to succumb to the oblivion of sleep for at least a little while. He never made it. He fidgeted throughout the night, tossed and turned as his mind returned to the name etched into his arm and all the implications it held.

_Philip._

Lukas had hidden his distress well enough at dinner, forcing a smile, keeping his sleeve rolled down and his arm tucked near his side. He managed to get out of his chores when he mentioned that he’d been sick at school and still didn’t feel well. For all his bluster, his dad did care for him, and told him to get rest. Lukas fled to his room, closed the door, and flopped on his bed.

Would his dad still love him if he was gay? If the name on his arm was a boy’s? A city boy’s at that?

Lukas didn’t know. And he couldn’t risk it.

He had already lost his mom, losing his dad was unthinkable.

When his alarm blared the next morning, Lukas was already awake. He had blearily watched the sun creep across the floor of his room with the dawn, the rays catching on the dust motes in the air, while he dreaded the day to come.

He didn’t want to go to school.

But he had to.

He had to intercept Philip. He had to get him to _hide_ it. Fuck, what if his soulmark was visible? What if someone had already seen it?

Lukas glanced down at his own arm. His own mark had darkened and become more ornate overnight. The first P had flourished first, the ends of it curling over Lukas’s skin, but now the rest of the letters twisted and trailed, interlocked together into a beautiful script. It blazed from below his wrist to the crook of his elbow.

The knock at his door startled him and he shoved his arm under the blankets.

“You up, son?”

“Yeah, Dad. I’m up.”

“You okay to go to school?”

Lukas licked his dry lips. He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah,” he croaked “Yeah, I think so.”

“All right. Get moving then.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lukas listened for the sound of his dad’s boots thumping against the wood, signaling his retreat downstairs. He blew out a breath, and fell back into the bed.

He needed to get it together. He needed to cover the mark sprawling across his arm. He needed a plan.

-

Lukas’s plan wasn’t elaborate. He hurried through his morning routine and got to school early. He parked his bike in a hidden spot on the side of the school. He texted Rose that he still didn’t feel well and not to wait for him in their usual place.

Then, tucked in the shadows, he watched.

By the time Philip biked up, the final bell for class had already rung. The front of the school was empty, and all of Lukas’s friends had long since gone inside.

As soon as Philip secured his bike to the rack, Lukas emerged from his hiding spot and strode quickly to intercept him. He caught Philip’s arm at the top of the stairs, his fingers wrapping around the soft leather of Philip’s jacket.

“What?” Philip started but Lukas cut him off.

“Come on.” He tugged hard and all but dragged Philip toward the access to the roof.

Lukas didn’t know what to expect, but Philip followed without resistance after the first few steps. Lukas let go of Philip’s arm and flexed his tingling fingers. His mark throbbed in time with the staccato beat of his heart.

He turned and scanned Philip’s uncovered skin—his face, neck, hands—and didn’t see his name. That was somewhat comforting. Philip watched him with a raised eyebrow and Lukas gestured to the old metal ladder.

“I live with the Sheriff,” Philip said, eyeing the ascent. “I don’t think she would condone kidnapping.”

“What?” Lukas said. “I’m not kidnapping you!”

Philip cocked his head to the side, a small smirk on his lips. “So I can walk away?” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder toward the front entrance of the school.

Lukas’s stomach dropped. “No!”

“So which is it?”

Lukas paced a few steps, hands in his jeans pockets. A soft breeze fluttered his flannel shirt around him. “I’m not kidnapping you. I just want to talk to you.”

“Okay then.” Philip shrugged. “That’s all you had to say.” He turned then grabbed the first rung of the ladder.

Lukas wilted in relief. He followed and absolutely did not admire the length of Philip’s legs as they climbed.

The roof of the school had a gravel overlay which crunched beneath Lukas’s boots. Up there, the wind bit a little sharper, and Lukas huddled in his shirt. He kicked a few pebbles, shoulders hunched up to his ears. This had seemed like a good plan originally, but confronting his soulmate was more intimidating than he had guessed.

Philip merely gazed at him as if he was content to watch Lukas squirm.

A few long awkward minutes passed.

“Are you going to say anything?” Lukas said finally.

“Nope,” Philip responded, popping the p.

Lukas frowned and crossed his arms.

“Hey, you’re the one who dragged me up here,” Philip said, jutting out his chin. “You should be the one to talk.”

Great, he would be bonded to a contentious dick. Lukas fidgeted, pulled on the ends of his sleeves, rocked back on his heels. He didn’t know where to start so he blurted the first thing that came to his mind.

“I’m not gay, okay?”

Philip’s eyebrows shot up. He bit his bottom lip. “Really? Because I have a mark on my ribs that says otherwise.”

“It’s on your ribs?”

The instantaneous relief was so strong Lukas sagged. His legs went weak and he staggered.

“Whoa.” Philip reached out, caught Lukas’s bicep with his hand, and steadied him. “Are you okay?”

Philip’s grip was strong, and even though there was two layers of fabric between Philip’s fingers and Lukas’s skin, Lukas shivered. The press of Philip’s fingertips was too real, too sharp, and a frisson of _attraction_ and _potential_ pulsed between them.

“Yeah,” Lukas said. He stepped away. “I just…” He trailed off, not sure what he wanted to say. He pressed his lips together. “Can I see it?”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Philip winked.

Contentious and flirtatious. And _interesting_.

“Yeah, sure.”

Lukas rolled up his sleeve and bared his arm. And fuck, when would it stop changing? It was darker, the red so deep it reminded Lukas of the roses that used to grow in his mom’s garden. And it had spread, the scrolls of the letters dripping over the curves of his pale skin.

Philip stared, awed and open-mouthed, and with a trembling hand, ghosted his fingers over the mark.

Lukas yanked his arm back with a jolt and viciously jerked the fabric of his shirt down, ripping the seam at his shoulder in the process.

“Your turn.” His voice sounded weird to his own ears, husky and deep.

Philip didn’t comment. He shrugged out of jacket and handed it off. He wore a hoodie underneath and another shirt under that, both of which he bunched together and lifted with one hand, snug against his other armpit.

It was difficult to focus presented with so much bare skin, the flat planes of Philip’s stomach, and the vee of Philip’s hip disappearing beneath the band of his jeans.

Lukas swallowed. He shook his head.

The mark was blue. The L looked like it was from a Medieval manuscript, the letter large and ornate compared to the rest of his name, and it spanned the width of Philip’s ribcage—the top of the letter rested below Philip’s left nipple, the straight vertical stroke ran parallel to his sternum, while the bottom bar cut across Philip’s torso.

“I looked it up,” Philip said as Lukas bent closer. “It’s called a Historiated Initial.”

“Huh?”

“The L. Why it’s different than the others.”

Lukas wet his lips. The rest of his name was lightly colored in, but he could make out the letters as they ran back up Philip’s ribs. It was the most unique pattern Lukas had ever seen in his limited experience.

“Did it hurt?”

“Like a bitch.”

“Mine too.”

Philip huffed a laugh. He grinned softly, and a jolt shot through Lukas. 

Lukas stumbled back and straightened, unaware of how close he’d moved to Philip’s body. He rubbed a hand over his face trying to hide his flush and thrust Philip’s jacket toward him. 

“Have you told anyone?”

Philip frowned and wrestled his shirt and hoodie back into place. He crossed his arms, and looked down and away, his brown hair obscuring his face. “No one to tell,” he said. “You?”

“Fuck, no.”

Philip snapped his head up. “Why?” he asked sharply.

“Because I _can’t_. I can’t be gay. It would ruin _everything_ for me.”

Understatement of his life. His chances on motorcross would evaporate before his eyes—not only because his soulmate was a guy but because of the baggage having a soulmate would mean for sponsors.

“And you’re not going to tell anyone either. Understand?”

Philip narrowed his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.” Lukas stepped forward, and loomed over Philip. He clenched his jaw, and Philip took a few steps backwards, until he bumped into the maintenance shed. “You’re going to keep it hidden.”

“Fuck you.” Philip tipped his head back. “Why should I?”

Lukas’s pulse raced. “Because you’re my soulmate and we’re bonded. And you’re supposed to have my best interests at heart. And not telling is in my best interest.”

Philip’s throat bobbed. His lips parted. “So you don’t want this?”

Lukas’s heart beat like a hummingbird. The back of his neck prickled with sweat. He dipped in closer and inhaled. Philip smelled like leather and toothpaste and warmth. His soulmark tingled on his arm, a pleasant heat winding its way to his middle. No, he didn’t want it. He _didn’t_. 

But the thought of losing Philip, someone he’d known for mere hours, _hurt_. It ached in the pit of his stomach, and his throat went tight, and every bit of intuition told him he shouldn’t throw this chance away. He _couldn’t_ throw a chance at a soulmate away.

“I…” Lukas cleared his throat. “I don’t know. We could….”

“Keep it a secret?” Philip asked, the tone of his voice full of hope. His breath was hot on Lukas’s collarbone. “Give it a chance?”

“Yeah,” Lukas said. “No one can know but maybe….”

Philip licked his lips and Lukas zeroed in on his mouth.

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

Philip raised his hand in the small space between them. “Give me your phone.”

Lukas pulled his cell from the back pocket of his jeans. He slapped it into Philip’s palm and Philip tapped in his contact information. Then he texted himself from Lukas’s phone. He handed it back.

“Text me after school,” Philip said. He brushed past Lukas, his shoulder colliding into Lukas’s arm. “See you.”

Lukas stayed on the roof long after Philip climbed down. He studied his phone, his thumb brushing over the screen. 

This was stupid. Soulmate or not, he didn’t know Philip. He shouldn’t feel obligated to interact with him, especially since he had no desire or plan to consummate their bond.

But there had been… something… between them. Even just on the roof, when Philip had touched the mark, there was a… spark.

Ugh. No. Still stupid. 

Lukas shoved his phone back in his pocket.

He had class.

-

At lunch, Lukas picked over his food. He tried not to notice Philip, but it was hard not to look at him, hunched over his food, alone at a table.

Lukas’s arm itched. And for a second, a feeling of intense loneliness swept through him, leaving him bereft of air. His breath hitched, but as soon as it was there, it was gone.

“You okay, babe?” Rose asked.

She placed her hand on his forearm, right over the mark, and Lukas clenched his eyes shut at the nausea that came with her touch. He gently pulled his arm away and laced their fingers together instead.

“Still not great,” he muttered.

She brushed his hair away from his forehead. “I know what will make you feel better.” She leaned in and looped her arms around Lukas’s neck. “An afternoon, alone, just me and you.”

Lukas forced a smile. “Yeah, that sounds great, but I… have chores to do for my dad. I didn’t do them yesterday and you know how my dad is.” He shrugged.

Rose unwound her arms and pouted. “Really?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Tommy joined them, dropping his tray on the table, then settling in the seat across from Lukas. He picked up his fork, and Lukas caught sight of Tracey’s name across the back of his hand.

“What’s up, guys?”

Lukas stared at the soulmark. “Hey, so,” he started, shoving his fork in what passed for macaroni, “did it hurt when you got your mark?”

Lukas felt Rose’s stare on the side of his face. Tommy was unfazed.

“I don’t remember. We were toddlers.”

“But… uh… does it hurt now?”

Tommy took a sip of his water. “Sometimes. If Tracey is hurt or upset, I feel it.”

“Just in the mark or like all over?”

“Depends. Why?”

Rose turned in her seat, head in her hand. “Yeah, why? You’ve never been interested in soulmark stuff before.”

Lukas shifted in his seat. “Because my parents’ anniversary is coming up and my dad never talks about my mom. And they were soulmates and I just… I don’t know.”

The half-truth came easily, though he stumbled over the words, and kept his head down to hide his blush. He never liked talking about his mom and it felt wrong to include her in a lie, but he couldn’t tell them the _truth_ —that his soulmate sat a few feet away and was a dude.

Rose squeezed his shoulder. “Oh, babe.”

Tommy cleared his throat. “I couldn’t imagine losing Tracey.”

“What do you mean?” Lukas asked.

“She’s my everything. I can’t explain it but without her, nothing would make sense. She completes me.” He smiled, small and secret. “I want her to be happy and I want her to achieve all her goals. And she wants the same for me. I know it sounds cheesy but one day, you’ll get it.”

Swallowing, Lukas pushed his food around. “It doesn’t like piss you off that like the universe made this decision for you and you didn’t have any say? What if it’s wrong?”

“Lukas!” Rose hissed. She shoved his arm. “You can’t say shit like that.”

Tommy laughed. “It’s okay. I know it’s weird. I was so young. You may want to ask someone who got their mark when they were older. Maybe, they feel different, but for me, it’s awesome.”

“But like… you’re not mad? You’re not… disappointed?”

Tommy’s eyes widened slightly. Rose punched Lukas in the side.

“Lukas! You’re being rude!”

And yeah, that was pretty rude, implying that Tommy should be upset about being paired with Tracey.

“What? I’m trying to understand. I mean… maybe that’s why my dad is so unhappy all the time. That the person he was destined to be with was also destined to be taken away from him. Why give him a few years of happiness and then take it all away? Wouldn’t it be better if he never had it at all? I mean, it sucks.”

“Yeah, that does,” Tommy agreed.

A long moment of silence stretched between them. Lukas tried to think about a way to change the subject, but floundered. He settled on pushing his food around his plate.

Thankfully, Dave flung himself in the seat beside Lukas. “What are you queers talking about?”

Never mind. Nothing to be thankful about. Lukas sighed.

“Nothing,” Tommy replied easily.

“I see foster loser is not sitting with us today,” Dave said, popping the top on his drink. “Good job scraping him off.”

Lukas dropped his fork on his tray. “I gotta go.” 

He stood up, ignoring the murmur from the rest of the group as he left, and emptied his tray in the trash. He wasn’t in the mood for Dave and his shit. He wasn’t in the mood for Tommy’s unbridled optimism about being bonded. He wasn’t in the mood for Rose and her romantic crap.

God, this soulmark stuff was fucking him up.

-

He made it through school though he was in a funk for the rest of the day. Everyone noticed, and maybe they chalked it up to being sick, but they wouldn’t let him pass for the rest of high school. He had to pull his head out of his ass somehow.

Lukas made it home and finished his chores and it was only through muscle memory that he managed to do it, his thoughts far away.

After dinner, he went to his room and laid in his bed, earbuds in. He pulled his sleeve up and studied the mark. It had changed slightly again, but not as drastic. Maybe it was finally slowing down?

His phone vibrated.

He held it up.

**PS: You didn’t text me**

Lukas frowned. 

**I didn’t know what to say.**

**PS: How about hi?**

That startled a laugh out of him. He smiled. 

**Hi**

**PS: Hey**

Lukas laughed again. The tension that had gathered at his temples dissipated as he stared at his phone.

This… wasn’t so bad.

Maybe they could be friends. That would be okay.

Yeah, friends. There was nothing explicit saying soulmates had to be romantically linked. They could be close friends. He wouldn’t mind that… he needed a close friend other than Rose anyway.

He texted something inane back and a few seconds later his phone lit up again.

Lukas couldn’t stop grinning if he tried.

**Author's Note:**

> the title comes from the definition of 'appear' - and from my friend, HT ;)


End file.
